CHAPTER VII
MANITOBA: CLUES TO PRAIRIE FARMING
Standing on high ground in Manitoba—and also, for the matter of that, in Saskatchewan and Alberta—you may gaze upon a vast encircling panorama of grey grass and gentle undulations, visible in the dry atmosphere and bright sunshine to a remote purple distance. That is one sort of prairie, the open sort, so suggestive of the sea. Also there is bush prairie, with trees and heavy undergrowth. A third kind is scrub—the resurrected bush after forest fires have swept it.
But, whether you be on moor or woodland, you will see flowers and birds and bees. For Canada is a land of sunshine, blue sky, and beautiful perfumed blossoms.
Only by hearsay do I know of the North-West when the ground is jewelled with violets, blue anemones, ladies’ slipper, and the bird’s-eye primrose. I know it well, and like it best, in the season of the prairie rose—surely the fairest flower anywhere to be found on the world’s circumference. It is petalled like our own wild rose, but of a sweet fragrance; the plant dwarfed and dainty, and nestling against the earth, with its upturned blossoms ruddy and conspicuous or of palest pink. I’m sure the fairies pluck buds of the prairie rose when they go to gather their posies. Indeed, I am sorry that the maple leaf—eloquently though it advertises the flaming glories of the autumn foliage—should have been chosen for the national emblem. Canada will always be to me the Land of the Prairie Rose.
The queen reigns not in lonely majesty. Prominent in her court is a royal relative (the three-flowered geum), an orange-red lily (_Philadelphicum_), a scarlet columbine that dances in the breeze, and the evening primrose, with fringed gentian and a campanula among the purples, not to forget the wild bergamot and flax and a mauve convolvulus. In autumn, Manitoba and her sister provinces are aglow with nodding sunflowers, gaillardias, golden rod, Michaelmas daisies, and three kinds of rudbeckia. Thus the wild nosegay of Canada has much in common with the garden bouquet of old England.
Manitoba is the smallest and (because it contains Winnipeg) the greatest of the prairie provinces. “It looks like a postage stamp on the map,” I happened to remark to its Prime Minister. “Well, sir,” replied the Hon. R. P. Roblin, with twinkling eyes, “there are half a million people on your postage stamp, and that is but a fraction of the population it is able and destined to maintain. You might report to the English and Scotch farmers that we have over twenty million acres of good agricultural land waiting for them here.”
It is, of course, the curious fact that, even in the smallest and most settled of the prairie provinces, oceans of superb land are still going a-begging. The area each year surveyed, and thereby rendered available for occupation, is as large as the area annually appropriated by the arriving stream of settlers. That stream is steadily increasing in volume, and to-day thousands of English and Scotch tenant-farmers, and tens of thousands of their agricultural labourers, are cogitating the question: “Shall we go to Canada?” Some persons counsel that course. Others attempt to dissuade them. But what those hesitating farmers and labourers are conscious of needing is, not advice, but information—and information in the form of definite facts rather than of general statements.
It was with this thought in my mind that I had approached Mr. Roblin, who is not merely Premier of Manitoba and its Minister of Agriculture, but one of the foremost living authorities on Canadian farming, his knowledge being based on practical experience in cultivating a large holding in the province.
I told Mr. Roblin that I desired an authoritative account of the process known as “breaking the prairie,” and he very kindly supplied me with the following particulars:
“Where the original prairie is thick and tough, it is customary to break and back-set. The former is best accomplished with a hand breaking-plough that has a rolling coulter, but, if the land be very smooth and level, fairly good work can be done with a sulky plough. In the case of such smooth land, the breaking should be shallow, and it is desirable to have the work completed by the end of June. The sod will be rotted a few weeks, after breaking, and the land should then be back-set. This is done by ploughing in the same direction as before, but to an additional depth of about two inches, so that fresh soil is brought up to form a seed bed. Afterwards the land must be made as fine as possible with a disk-harrow, or similar implement. Then only a light harrowing will be necessary in the following spring, when the seed is put in.
“Where the land is rough instead of level, thin breaking, of course, will not be practicable. Here the plough must go to an additional depth of from four to five inches, and the work should be done as early as possible in the year. Back-setting is unnecessary, but there should be a good harrowing to produce a level surface, as well as a further harrowing before seeding.
“So much for the two sorts of open grass land—the smooth and the rough. Now we come to the land that is covered with light trees and scrub. It will be found so very fertile as amply to repay the work involved in clearing it—work which, of course, bears no analogy to the task of dealing with the heavily timbered land to be found in other parts of the continent. The larger poplars and willows are chopped out, this being usually done in the winter. Then a fire is run over the land to burn off the remaining trees and the scrub. Afterwards the ground may easily be broken with a strong brush plough, and, when levelling has been done with a harrow, the seed can go in. Large returns are yielded by that class of land, of which immense areas are still obtainable, principally in Northern Manitoba, either as free homesteads or at a nominal price.”
To practical farmers, as well as to other persons having a grasp of farming principles (and this chapter is designed to serve the interests only of those two classes), the foregoing clear and exact statement by Mr. Roblin will convey a definite knowledge of the easy agricultural preliminaries that have to be faced, not only in Manitoba, but also in Saskatchewan and Alberta.
From the expert and obliging Premier I sought and obtained other useful facts about prairie farming.
As to the wheat most suitable for Manitoba, I learnt that many kinds have been grown on the homesteads, while the search for new knowledge is never slackened at the Government experimental farms; but accumulated experience may be summed up in seven words—there is nothing to beat Red Fyfe. The plant is healthy and vigorous and very productive, the hard and white berry having unequalled milling qualities, with thin bran and high gluten contents.
Concerning oats, I derived the following information from the Premier:
With proper care, this grain does very well in Manitoba, and there is a yearly increase in the demand (both for feeding purposes and oatmeal), and consequently an increase in the price obtainable. In some districts the soil is more favourable for oats than for wheat. Careful selection of seed and thorough cultivation result in immense yields, many farmers reporting an average of eighty bushels per acre on large holdings. For a number of years the Banner oat has been most favoured by growers, this being a thin, hulled sort, very productive, and of excellent quality. The white varieties, known as Abundance, Ligowa, and Newmarket, also receive attention and sell at good prices for milling purposes. What can be done by good cultivation on the rich soils of Manitoba is illustrated by this fact: At the Brandon experimental farm, over a period of five years, the average yield of Banner oats, on summer fallowed land, and without the use of a fertiliser, was one hundred and sixteen bushels and four pounds per acre. In the rotation of crops the place occupied by oats is usually after wheat and before either a barley crop or summer fallow.
I learnt that the Chevalier varieties of two-rowed barley have not given satisfaction. Two-rowed Duckbills, such as Canadian Thorpe, are stiffer in the straw, and, as a rule, the heads fill well. The six-rowed varieties—notably Mensury and Odessa—have been found best adapted for general cultivation. They can be sown later than any other grain, and mature so early as to escape danger from autumn frosts. It nearly always happens that the straw is stiff and bright and that the ears fill well.
With regard to fodder crops, I learnt that farmers in newly-settled districts have no need for them, abundance of excellent hay being obtainable from the natural prairie grass on the lower lands and water meadows. When, with the growth of a district, those areas are drained and utilised as grain fields, the farmers have no difficulty in raising fine crops of timothy, western rye, millet, broom, and other grasses. Lucerne and the clovers also thrive well under proper treatment, while Indian corn grows to a height of from eight to ten feet, and, yielding about twenty tons to the acre, is excellent as green fodder or as ensilage.
Having thus gleaned the salient facts as to preliminary operations and the crops that do well in Manitoba, I obtained the following particulars as to methods of farming practised in the province:
“Most of the wheat crop is grown on land that has produced a grain crop of some kind during the previous year. After the stubble land has been ploughed as early in the autumn as possible, it is furrowed and left ready for sowing in the following spring. In the case of new land, this inexpensive method of cultivation usually results in large profits. Sooner or later, of course, a regular system of rotation has to be adopted. The common practice is to include a summer fallow in the rotation, the grain stubble being usually ploughed in June, when the weed seeds have begun to germinate. Then the soil is compacted with a sub-surface packer, or similar implement, this operation being followed, during the summer, by thorough surface tillage, to kill weeds and prevent evaporation.
“Some of the largest and best crops of wheat are associated with summer fallowing, which greatly improves the condition of the soil. The more advanced farmers include grass in their rotation, timothy or western rye being usually sown with a nurse crop of grain, and the land being used for pasture after two season’s hay crops have been cut. Where clover is grown, a nurse crop is not recommended, although in favourable seasons there may be a light seeding of hay to be cut early as a green feed. Excellent results have been obtained by ploughing grain stubble in spring, harrowing once, then sowing about twelve pounds of red clover to the acre, harrowing again, and rolling. When weeds of the ‘volunteer’ grain crop are about a foot high, a mower should be run over the land, the cuttings being left to form a mulch. The clover plants become large and well rooted before the autumn, and there is no danger that they will be killed by the winter. In the following year two cuttings of clover can be taken.”
My attention was drawn to the fact that, the areas under cultivation being large, farm operations have to be carried through as expeditiously as possible. Hence the most improved machinery is in use on the homesteads. Immediately upon the ripening of the grain, large binders are set to work, and are kept in operation from dawn to sunset. At times a score of these machines, each drawn by four horses, are to be seen moving in close succession around an immense field, with the result that, in a few days, the crop from hundreds of acres is safely stooked. In a few more days the standing grain is cured; then the farm is visited by one of the threshing outfits, which consist of powerful steam traction engines and separators. The threshing is done direct from the stook, and is carried out so quickly that only a few days intervene between the ripening of the grain and its delivery on the market.
I went into the question of live stock, beginning with the animal of chief importance in agriculture—the horse. The application of mechanical power in farming has gone much farther on the North American continent than in this country. In England or Scotland a man has to be content with tilling a farm; in Canada and the United States the ambitious grain-grower will often till a landscape, waxing exceedingly rich in the process. For the man who measures his land by square miles the seasons are no longer than for the man who measures his land by acres. He is, of course, in a position to multiply teams of horses to any extent, but—human labour being as scanty and high-priced on one side of the Atlantic as it is cheap and superabundant on the other—he can never be sure of securing enough men to drive the teams. So he turns eagerly to the machines, driven by petrol or steam, which are being placed on the market in forms of increasing efficiency.
But the average Canadian farmer, with his one hundred and sixty or three hundred and twenty acres, is dependent upon animal power for ploughing, harrowing, and reaping; and, therefore, possible emigrants among our Scotch and English agriculturists will desire to learn something as to the quantity and, more important still, the quality of the animal power available on the prairie.
The history of the horse in Manitoba, I learnt, is divisible into three chapters. In the early days of settlement, stock-raising was the mainstay of agriculture, and the pioneer farmers introduced into the province some fine horses and cattle, the imported stock thriving wonderfully on nutritious prairie grasses which had long sustained vast herds of buffalo. To this day, indeed, one hears of the magnificent steers that fed on the sweet upland pastures and revelled belly-deep in vetches and wild pea-vines. So much for the first chapter—concerned with the laying of a good foundation, whereof the influence is felt in some of the best studs and herds of to-day. Afterwards, Manitoba discovered how splendidly its soil and climate were adapted for grain-growing; and everybody turned his back on stock-raising and went in for wheat. Thus the second chapter represents a period in which the raising of horses was neglected. And so we come to the third chapter; and here I cannot do better than quote Mr. Roblin:
“Many a traveller has marvelled at the myriad beacon fires illuminating the autumn sky from the far-reaching stubble fields, where the straw piles are burned as soon as the threshers have completed their task. This improvident waste, coupled with careless methods encouraging the introduction and spread of weeds, is causing the pendulum to swing slowly back again. In order to improve the mechanical condition of the soil, to restore exhausted fertility and to control noxious weeds, the wiser farmers are now cultivating grasses and clovers, fencing their holdings, and giving serious attention to the raising of live stock.”
There are about a quarter of a million horses in Manitoba to-day, and the supply does not keep pace with the demand. Until a few years ago the farmers were dependent upon supplies from east and west and from the United States; nowadays numerous animals bred in the province appear in the Winnipeg market, and command good prices.
In my part of the Old Country there is a saying that when it comes to buying a horse a man cannot trust his own brother; and I learnt from Mr. Roblin that, even in honest Canada, equine dealings have not always been above reproach. “Importers from the United States,” I was advised, “not only brought with them American-bred stallions, but also introduced American methods of disposing of them. One of these methods was commonly known as ‘syndicating.’ Ten or a dozen farmers were induced to take shares in a stallion, and to sign notes of joint ownership. In many of these cases the stallion so disposed of was stated to be worth from £400 to £800, which was generally three or four times its actual value. The notes were discounted before maturity, and the salesmen decamped. Such practices have done much injury to the horse-breeding industry, but, happily, they are now almost a thing of the past.”
Legislation, I learnt, has been introduced in the western provinces to foster horse-breeding. The objects of that legislation are to encourage the use of sound, pure-bred stallions and to eliminate others. Owners are compelled, under risk of a penalty, to register stallions with the departments of agriculture of the several provincial governments, certificates being issued that state, in the case of each animal, whether it be pure-bred or graded, and whether it be sound or unsound. A copy of this certificate must be printed on advertisements and route-bills and be conspicuously displayed on the door of every stable occupied by the horse during the breeding season.
Draft breeds are the most popular with prairie farmers, Clydesdales predominating. There are also many Percherons and Shires. As numerous registered Clydesdale mares are stationed throughout the country, and as a good Clydesdale stallion is to be found on nearly every section, this breed is likely to maintain its position. Of horses bred on the average farm, few would scale up to the draft class, the majority having to be registered as agricultural horses because they weigh less than 1,600 lbs., while there are many horses bred from small nondescript mares that could only be styled “farm chunks.” Although lacking in weight, these are useful horses on a farm, being hardy, and having good wearing qualities.
Concerning the lighter breeds, I learnt that there are many American trotting stallions in the country, and that excellent road horses are produced. Thoroughbreds, hackneys, and some of the coach breeds have been introduced into Manitoba, and among the resulting crosses are a good many saddle and heavy leather horses. These are useful animals for light farm work and for certain kinds of road work, but they do not command high prices.
Mr. Roblin certified that on the whole the country is good for horse-breeding, though, against the healthy climate and the abundance of good feed, one has to set a rather high mortality among foals from the disease known as “joint ill.”
I now come to the matter of cattle. And here let me say that the English or Scotch farmer will gain an excellent idea of Canadian conditions if, taking his balance sheet for a year, he will remodel it on the supposition that he has no rent, interest, or tithe to pay, and only a merely nominal taxation, in respect to a holding of one hundred and sixty acres or more, and on the further supposition that he has the free use of excellent and unlimited grazing outside that holding. To do this is to translate farming profits secured in one part of the British Empire into farming profits obtainable in another part of the British Empire. Indeed, the difference between the United Kingdom and Canada, from the agriculturist’s point of view, is this: in the former country he is allowed to use the air, sunshine, and rain for his private profit free of charge; while in the latter country he finds another natural element also given away, and he no more has to reckon with a landlord than with an airlord or a rainlord.
Having owned and tended a cow or two in my time, and having a fondness for those beasts, I found myself regarding the prairie herds with a keen interest, and an interest not wholly free from jealousy. Grain-growing with up-to-date machinery on ample new acres that harbour few weeds and need no manure, was a sufficiently tantalising contrast to the elaborate methods necessary in an old country where land is precious and in need of costly fertilisers. But it was hard for an Essex small-holder to keep his temper on noting the simple, not to say automatic, lines on which kine may be kept in Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta. At least one cow will generally be retained on the homestead, and be duly milked, so that the farmer’s wife may make puddings, and her children grow sturdy on an unstinted supply of cream and butter; but often enough the herd is permitted to look after itself and roam at large on any unappropriated and unfenced land, drinking from rivers and growing fat on the nutritious prairie grass. I spoke to some farmers who confessed that, during the greater part of the year, they never see their cattle and have no definite knowledge of their whereabouts. Every farmer has his distinctive registered brand, and, before permitting his animals to depart on their wanderings, he sees to it that each bears the mark that will establish and safeguard his ownership. Where calving takes place in a herd out on free range, the unbranded youngsters will run with their mothers, and so remain within the pale of proprietorship.
“What a waste of milk!” was my comment. “Oh,” the prairie farmer has replied, “I can’t be everlasting rounding up the bunch to milk ’em. Then look at the daily bother of sending the stuff into town. No, sir, wheat is my line, and it pays me best to look after the land. Of course, the beef end of it is different. I don’t mind driving a score or so of fat beasts to market now and again, and it’s a few hundred dollars easily earned.”
But I will no further pursue the thread of my personal experiences, since I have designed that this chapter shall contain comprehensive data, bearing the stamp of high authority, concerning farming on the prairie.
With regard to cattle, then, Mr. Roblin furnished me with these particulars:
“The little Red River cow of early days—rugged, short-legged, crumple-horned, and brindled—has almost entirely disappeared. The foundations of several herds of shorthorns were laid in the early ’eighties, and the progeny of these, and of many similar herds subsequently established, have been widely distributed throughout the country. Indeed, the blood of this cosmopolitan breed now flows in the veins of most of our cattle.
“Of the special beef breeds, the Hereford and the Aberdeen Angus are fairly well represented. Where the calves run with their dams, and beef production only is desired, both these breeds, as well as Galloways, are found to answer well. They are good grazers, and mature heavy, compact carcases of the best quality. The cows, however, are not such good milkers nor so docile as shorthorns.
“Of special dairy breeds, the Holsteins are steadily gaining in favour. They are robust and large-framed, have great capacity for assimilating ‘roughage,’ and produce immense quantities of fairly good milk. Ayrshires and Jerseys have been introduced, but while the former are numerously represented in the dairying districts, the latter make no headway.
“In localities that have been longest settled, wheat has tended to displace cattle from the sweet grazing of the uplands and drive them to the lower-lying and flatter lands, where the grass is coarser and less nutritious. Consequently there has been some deterioration in the quality of the herds. But, with the adoption of more ‘intensive’ methods, including the growing of corn, clover, and lucerne, and with greater care bestowed on stabling, better results are accruing. Already there are indications that cattle-feeding is receiving due attention in Manitoba, and that cattle-raising promises to become in this province one of the most important branches of agriculture. The straw and screenings of the wheat-field, instead of being burnt, are destined to be ‘marketed on the hoof,’ the manure serving to fertilise and mechanically improve the soil, thereby causing the grain crops to give a greater yield and to mature more quickly.”
From Mr. Roblin’s statement it will be seen that already, following the natural evolution of a country’s agricultural development, the more settled parts of Manitoba have entered upon the stage of mixed farming. The factors that make grain-growing so remunerative have the same influence on dairying. Manitoba, like Ontario and Quebec, is alive to the importance of co-operation in this industry, and the machinery of cream-collection and of butter- and cheese-making in factories is working on a large and increasing scale.
With regard to sheep, Mr. Roblin supplied discouraging information. So far as climate and soil are concerned, the prairie provinces are admirably suited for sheep-raising. Moreover, prices for lamb and mutton rule high. But the coyote, or prairie-wolf, while harmless to other stock, preys on sheep. It is the farmer’s one enemy in the animal kingdom of Canada. Governments and municipalities offer bonuses for coyote scalps, and ultimately, no doubt, _canis latrano_ will be exterminated. Meanwhile those prairie farmers who have flocks of Shropshires, Oxfords, and Leicesters are put to the expense of close fences.
“But,” said Mr. Roblin, “although I speak in this disconsolate tone about sheep-raising, it has, I believe, a great future; in this way. The prolific yield of the earth has caused farmers to become careless and to allow noxious weeds to grow rampant. Now sheep thrive and produce excellent mutton on these very weeds, which means that the sheep-owner is achieving a double purpose: he is cleaning his land very thoroughly—the sheep absolutely exterminate the weeds—and he is securing a handsome return from his fine fat sheep in doing so.” As for the outlet, Mr. Roblin declared that Winnipeg, “with half the population of Montreal, has double the demand for mutton.” Indeed, he considers that the sheep-raiser finds a better local market in Manitoba than anywhere else in Canada.
With the advance of dairying, hog-raising is assuming importance. But, as Mr. Roblin pointed out, every farmer can, if he chooses, cheaply rear without milk a few swine on by-products that would otherwise be wasted. Not enough pork is produced in Central Canada to supply the local demand, but market conditions do not greatly encourage the industry. As the people of Manitoba want light, mild-cured bacon and hams, Yorkshires and Berkshires stand in chief favour.
Finally, I gathered these further facts of interest to anyone who contemplates tilling the prairie soil:
Currants, gooseberries, raspberries, and strawberries have long been cultivated profitably in Manitoba; and of late years some hardy apples have proved successful on the Siberian crab. All garden vegetables, save a few that require a long season, are grown to a high state of perfection in the prairie provinces. Eggs and poultry command a good market and receive increasing attention. Following upon the widespread cultivation of clover, bee-keeping has become easy and profitable.